


That One Time Rey Got Drunk

by OfHealingLove



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Budding Romance, F/M, Johrian whiskey, Kylo lies to himself, Oral Sex, Rey is drunk, Rey is still a prisoner, and all of this is completely consensual, but she's treated well, developing feelings, equal-opportunity oral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 12:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8980153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfHealingLove/pseuds/OfHealingLove
Summary: Rey is drunk, Kylo is impulsive, and neither of them can admit their feelings. They can, however, express them through physical intimacy.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dungeoncrawler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dungeoncrawler/gifts).



> So, I'm not usually very good at this type of thing, but, uh...here's my best shot?

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

But Rey can’t really think about that right now because of the alcohol flowing through her—the Johrian whiskey is so strong in her veins that it feels like she’s on fire. She can vaguely tell that her vision is a little blurry, her eyes glazed, but she feels so _good._

On Jakku, food had been a luxury, and alcohol out of the question for a scavenger as poor as she was, just struggling to survive. So, this is her first encounter with it, and of this caliber…well, in the distant part of her brain that’s still functioning properly, she knows that she’s drunk and that she really shouldn’t have dived into the whiskey with all her might.

But Kylo Ren had left the large bottle unguarded when a Stormtrooper had summoned him for something or another, and Rey was feeling particularly upset about her attraction to him, so in an attempt to drown out her feelings of guilt, betrayal, and shame, she had grabbed the bottle by its neck and gulped down more than she could handle.

It’s nice though, this warmth in her body that creeps from the inside out. Her cheeks are pleasantly flushed and she can’t focus enough to dwell on the fact that against all reason, she’s attracted to the man who killed her father-figure, Han Solo. But it had come on unexpectedly while she’d been a prisoner on Starkiller. Because she was force-sensitive, she had been afforded much better care and treatment than an average prisoner.

And because Supreme Commander Snoke had insisted that she be put into Kylo’s direct care, under the premise that he was the only one who could control her and prevent her from escaping after her last attempt.

Except that Rey isn’t so sure she’s really trying to escape anymore. Despite her anger at herself for developing these feelings, they are something she’s never felt before, and in their intensity, they’re more intoxicating that the whiskey she’s drank copious amounts of.

She’s startled when there’s the hissing of a door open behind her, and she whips around to see who it is.

Naturally, it’s Kylo, and her heart beats that much faster.

“Hiiiiii,” she slurs, waving sloppily.

His brow furrows and he looks skeptical at her uncharacteristic friendliness. Despite her crush, she’s always tried to hide it. Now, though, she doesn’t have the self-control to do so.

His eyes glance over to the half-finished bottle of whiskey and his lips thin in to an annoyed, disapproving line.

“You’re drunk,” he states flatly.

Rey shakes her head and the world spins. Her retort is lost in the feeling, and when it stops she just smiles sloppily and stumbles to her feet.

“Youuuuuuuu’re ang-angryyy,” she says, uncaring of how it comes out. She approaches him and he takes a step backwards, annoyance turning to frustration.

“Rey, sit down,” he commands. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Dun’ care,” she replies, but she lurches suddenly when the floor seems to fall out from under her, and she tilts forward. Kylo catches her without thinking, and instinct tells her to wrap her arms around him.

He smells nice, she notices, taking a deep breath as she leans against his chest. He’s stiff, but he hasn’t quite released her yet—although something in her knows that it’s only a matter of time. Still, she breathes him in, a masculine scent of clean crispness and ozone from his massive power with the force.

She hums in approval and that’s when he takes her by the shoulders and pushes her away, although his hands stay to keep her steady.

He sighs and one hand leaves her shoulder to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You’re going to regret this in the morning,” he says, irritated. He begins to guide her to the chair she usually occupies in his quarters, where he had left her, but when he pushes her downwards to make her sit, she groans in annoyance.

“Nooooo,” she whines, resisting him. “Wanna-wanna hold you.”

Kylo frowns, but he says nothing, just pushing down with enough extra force that she ends up sprawling on her seat. Like a needy toddler, she raises her hands again and grabs the front of his clothes, dragging him downward. Normally, he would have easily been able to resist—he’s so much taller, so much stronger, so _handsome_ , but that part’s irrelevant—but because he’s surprised, he’s pulled down and without thinking, she molds her lips against his.

He hisses through his teeth at the feel of her soft lips against his—the ones that he’s thought—and dreamt about—so extensively since the day in the interrogation room.

But then he pulls away. She’s drunk and doesn’t know what she’s doing, and he’s not so terrible of a person that he’ll take a captive against her will.

If she’s willing when she’s sober, that will be a different matter. He knows Snoke has nothing against a romance between them, especially if it means Rey will birth force-sensitive children that can become future Sith. Kylo’s not necessarily against that idea, but he’s not going to let Rey have a child that will be a mistake. Call it him holding onto the Light inside her, or call him a coward—he doesn’t care. Impregnating her while she’s drunk and not in control of her faculties is something he will _not_ do. It’s a line he won’t cross.

Rey whines, and it’s annoying and just a little bit adorable, but those thoughts last for half a second because the next thing she’s doing is pressing her hand against his groin and rubbing against him.

Kylo hasn’t slept with anyone in a long time, partially due to Rey. (He won’t admit that it actually has a lot more to do with her than with any other reason.) So it stands that, when he’s touched so intimately, almost innocently with her inexperienced hands, blood rushes to his cock and it’s already half-hard from that first stroke.

He grits his teeth. “Stop, Rey.” But he can’t bring himself to pull away. He’s always been an impulsive person, and part of him right now is thinking, _If you don’t have sex, what’s the harm?_

“Mmm,” Rey sighs, completely ignoring him in favor of gripping his hardening shaft more tightly and dragging her small hand up and down. She leans against his thigh and rubs her hand more quickly, fascinated by the hardness that’s growing so big in her hand.

He’s fully hard now, and she just grips him tighter. It takes self-restraint he’s never exercised before now not to groan.

He still can’t—won’t—pull away, though.

Fuzzily, Rey tries to decide what she’s going to do with this large thing that she rubbing through Kylo’s uniform. She likes touching it, she likes touching it _a lot_ , and the whiskey is preventing her from getting shy and skittering away in embarrassment. A memory flits through her minds’ eye: on Jakku, there had been a brothel for those who occasionally passed through or the more affluent beings who lived on the desert planet. She recalls the time, early on in her life, that she had tried to steal from them because there was nothing new to be found in the deserts and she was so hungry that she was willing to forsake any morality for the sake of a bite to eat. It had been unsuccessful, but she’d seen something interesting—a human man standing with a Twi’lek on her knees, her mouth around the very same thing she’s touching on Kylo.

Her mouth salivates at the memory, and she knows then what she wants to do with him. Without hesitation, she fumbles with the bottom half of his uniform until he’s free.

Kylo is so stunned by Rey’s forwardness, this headstrong girl who’d never shown so much a hint of coyness or cunning, and he wants what she’s offering so bad, that he doesn’t move when she undresses his lower half. When his cock is released from the confines of his pants, he can only stare, bewildered and eager, as Rey takes him into her mouth without hesitation.

This time he does groan.

Rey only has a vague idea how to do this, but she’s a willing student. She takes as much of him into her mouth as possible, and just sucks. Her tongue caresses the underside of his cock and she hollows her cheeks as she sucks him hard. When he hits the back of her throat with her overzealousness, she almost gags, but then decides she likes the sensation, and tries to fit more of him inside her. Absently, she hears him give a guttural growl, and his hand fists in her hair and pulls her closer.

She obliges without hesitation.

Kylo…Kylo doesn’t really know what to do with her. He doesn’t actually know what’s going on right now anymore, because he’s lost, so lost, in a haze of pleasure he’s never known before. His tip is breaching the back of her throat and he can feel her throat contract around him when she swallows, and another groan is ripped from him.

He really shouldn’t be doing this. It’s wrong—she’s drunk and she doesn’t know what she’s doing. But for all her inexperience, she’s already taken control of the situation and he doesn’t think he has it in him to pull away now.

_It feels so damn good_. He can barely think right now.

Then her mouth is opening impossibly wider, and like someone who’s done this a million times before, she knows how to relax her throat and he’s going down _farther_ than anyone has ever taken him before. No gagging, no choking, just the steady undulation of her tongue and throat clenching around him.

He can usually last longer than he’s going to now, but this is _Rey,_ and he’s never thought this would happen, and the feeling of paradise has him panting hard and trying to stop himself from coming prematurely. Then Rey moans against him, her sounds vibrating through him to his core, and she sounds just as turned on as he is.

_Fuck,_ he thinks inwardly, and he starts to lightly thrust into her mouth. She doesn’t jerk away, doesn’t flinch, just moans again and takes in more of him.

She sucks harder then, as if unconsciously egging him on, and then swallows around him. It’s similar to what it feels like when a woman is orgasming while he’s inside of her, and it’s so sublime that he’s immediately coming— _hard._

Rey pauses when she feels hot liquid going down her throat and filling her mouth. The taste is salty and sweet at the same time, and it makes her swallow uncontrollably because it tastes so good. She goes at him hard then, thinking she understands what’s happening despite not having experienced it for herself before, swallowing and sucking and very much enjoying his cum.

Kylo’s mind is blown. He feels like he’s been inundated with the force, and it’s a heady sensation of such intensity that he feels himself blackout for a moment.

Then he’s softening in her mouth and she’s still sucking. It’s more than he can handle, and he pulls away at last, although less roughly than he imagined he would.

Rey smiles up at him, his cum on her lips, and she licks it off and hums appreciatively.

Kylo has no idea how to react to this, so he just stares and hopes he’s not getting hard again, because he doesn’t think he’ll be satisfied by anyone other than this scavenger girl ever again.

“Rey,” he pants, still regaining his mental faculties. She just sighs and leans back in her chair, eyes closed and a blissful expression on her face.

If just getting him off makes her this way, he wonders how she’ll feel once he returns the favor.

And oh, he intends to return the favor.

Rey’s not the only one who’s going to get a taste tonight.

Kylo has never felt so sure of anything in his life as he kneels down before her, his knees still a little weak from the pleasure she’d taken from him. When he lifts her modest dress—because of course she wouldn’t be left in those raggedy scavenger clothes—and spreads her legs with much more surety than she had taken him into her mouth, Rey’s eyes open in confusion.

“Kylo?” she whispers, and it seems she’s started to sober up a little, if her sudden coherence is anything to go by. He ignores her as he pushes the dress up and begins to pulls down the satin panties she’s been given. “What are you doing?”

“Shh,” he says. “This will feel good.”

Rey shifts away. She doesn’t know what on earth he intends to do with her, but she’s not sure she wants to do it. He just tightens his grip and looks up into her eyes. “Kylo?”

“Do you trust me, Rey?”

Rey contemplates that for a moment, not because she doesn’t trust him, but because she’s not sure she wants to let that knowledge be known just yet. They _are_ supposed to be enemies, after all.

When she hesitates, he presses a finger against the part of her that’s been aching ever since she took him into her mouth, and she gasps.

“Do you trust me?” he reiterates, and then presses against her again more insistently.

Her mouth open, unused to this amazing sensation, she turns wide eyes to him and nods.

Her underwear his divested from her and her dress is pushed up all the way to her torso. Kylo grips her by her thighs and pulls her towards the edge of the chair, her legs spread wide as he inhales her wantonly. Just the tip of his nose against a very sensitive part of her leaves her gripping the arms of the chair under her knuckles are white.

“A-are you-”

His tongue flits out and licks her, long and hard.

Rey sees stars just from that.

She doesn’t know it, but he’s talented. After that initial touch, he peppers kisses around her clit, licks her labia and suckles in her inner thighs, but doesn’t actually touch where she wants to be touched. “ _Kylo,_ ” she complains breathily.

He chuckles, and it seems to reverberate through her. Without knowing what she’s doing, she pushes herself into his face needily and he growls, attacking her with fervor.

His tongue swirls around her clit, his teeth scrape her ever-so-gently, and she keens with pleasure. She’s dripping, her thighs wet with her juices and his saliva, and when his tongue dips into her opening, she begins thrusting her hips against his face. She’s gasping for air; she’s never felt this before and doesn’t know what to do with the sensations except to feel them, but they’re almost too much. When he returns to ravish her clit again, she feels tears prick her eyes. _It’s so amazing._ They’re tears from pleasure almost painful, and behind her eyelids she’s seeing sparks of light.

“Ah, ah, mm,” is all she can manage, and she feels something building in her rapidly as she moves her hips desperately against his face. He takes her clit into his mouth, suckles her hard, and thrusts two fingers inside her. She’s wet, so there’s no resistance, and although it hurts a little, the slight pain of the intrusion is almost erotic. With his mouth attending to her sensitive nub, he curls his gloved fingers into a bundle of nerves she’d never even known existed, and after only a few repetitions, she’s falling apart around him and screaming his name.

Her vision is completely white and she can’t feel anything but pleasure and Kylo.

She thinks that she could really get used to this.

Kylo’s hard again and he can’t help it. She tastes like—well, he can’t name it, but it’s lightly sweet, probably from all the fruit she consumes, but also a flavor uniquely hers that makes him desperately want more. Even after she’s come down, he continues licking her because he doesn’t want to let that delicious flavor go. Not yet—not ever.

Eventually Rey shivers from overstimulation. “St-stop,” she moans, because it feels good but it feels _too_ good. With reluctance, he pulls away, and her legs sag downwards once he removes himself.

Rey is boneless. Staying in this char for forever sounds great…her eyes drift closed, and then all she knows is darkness.

Kylo stares at his captive with something like adoration, though he’d never tell anyone that and will probably never admit it to himself. Frankly, the alcohol should have made her pass out long ago, but he can’t bring himself to regret what has just happened. Gently, he lifts her up and carries her over to his bed. She usually sleeps in a cot in the corner—small, but not necessarily uncomfortable—but tonight he feels like sleeping with her in his arms.

Maybe she’ll move back to the cot tomorrow night, maybe she won’t. But Kylo’s mind is so far away from the future right now that he can’t even contemplate it. He strips himself into his boxers and slips under the covers with her, pulling her against his chest. He’s pretty sure that she won’t be complaining when she wakes up in the morning.

Morning, when she’ll go back to being a prisoner and he, her captor. He dreads it after the wonderful night of pleasure he’s had with her. A vague sense of guilt creeps up on him, but he tamps it down. She had been willing, he tells himself. He breaths in her scent, then closes his eyes.

Morning can wait. He drifts off to strangely peaceful sleep, devoid of nightmares, with her in his arms.


End file.
